


Completely Innocent

by Snarry5evr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A fun time was had by all, Blame the belt, Blame the cake, Blame the glue, Blame the pixies, Blame the snake, M/M, Minerva gets the last word, Parseltongue, Professor Harry, UST, compromising positions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarry5evr/pseuds/Snarry5evr
Summary: Minerva keeps finding two of her professors in very compromising positions.





	Completely Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in chapter format, but I decided to be nice to all you wonderful people and post it as a one-shot.
> 
> As always, thanks to my Beta Dannielle.

## Part 1: Plunging into Greatness

 

It started on a warm September evening. The second Saturday of the new term, to be precise. For Severus Snape it was a typical Saturday. The idiots he was in charge of on a daily basis had yet to fully fall back into the routine of school so he had spent half the day overseeing detentions. The tediousness of such a chore (regardless of what his students thought, he did _not_ enjoy giving out detentions) was made worse by the soft warm breeze that wafted in through the small window of the classroom he was currently using. And also despite what others thought, he actually did enjoy the sunlight from time to time. It was thanks to genetics that he could not handle the intense rays of the sun long enough to garner a decent shade of skin tone, unlike _some_ professors he could name who always seemed to glow with bronzed skin freshly darkened by sunlight. Finally, he was able to release his students from their detention and was promptly asked by Poppy for a new batch of calming draught. Apparently the seventh year Ravenclaws had already realized they only had nine months until their NEWTs.

Once he had delivered the latest batch, along with a batch of mild sleeping draught, he had just enough time to catch a quick shower before dinner. However much students purported to the contrary, Severus did indeed shower and wash his hair on a regular basis. Once cleaned of all potions residue and adorned in fresh, _black_ robes Severus made his way out of his private quarters and up to the Great Hall for dinner. Nearly late, and knowing the students would already be making their way to dinner themselves, Severus walked at a determined pace. He barely stopped in time from barreling into a slight figure that seemingly appeared from nowhere. The other figure was not so quick to react, and Severus soon found his arms full of a lithe, strong, younger wizard, their bodies pressed together and wide green eyes gazing owlishly up at him. Severus sneered.

“Potter! What in blazes are you doing?” The tanned cheeks blushed a furious red, and Potter’s pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips.

“S-sorry, sir. I was just trying to… I mean, Professor Candish…” Potter looked behind him as if the Muggle Studies professor might appear out of thin air. Severus growled and pushed Potter away.

“Watch where you’re going.”

Potter’s blush deepened. “Right. Er, yes.” Potter made to stumble away but his foot somehow got tangled with Severus’s. A slender hand grabbed at Severus’s shoulder, and Severus reached out to wrap his arm back around the slender waist. A moment later they tumbled to the floor with twin sounds of “oomph” bursting from their lips mixing with the sound of Potter’s skull cracking against the stone floor, fabric tearing, and a _pop_ from Severus’s wrist that didn’t sound promising. Somehow, Potter’s fingers had gotten trapped in Severus’s hair, and the small band he had used to tie it back came out when Potter jerked his hand away. Severus let out another growl as his hair fell around his face. He glared down at Potter.

“Potter,” he said in a low menacing voice, causing the other professor to blush furiously.

“Sorry, sir.”

Severus let out a disgruntled snort and made to push himself from the younger wizard, but the moment he put pressure on his wrist, intense pain shot up his arm. His dropped back down onto the lithe form with a hissed “fuck,” pulling a gasp of air from the younger man, either from the uttered curse or the unexpected weight, Severus did not know nor did he care at this juncture.

“A-are you okay, Snape?” Potter asked tentatively. Severus dropped his head.

“Shut up, Potter.”

“Sorry, sir,” the man whispered. Awkwardly, Severus used his left hand to attempt to push himself up. This time he was hindered by the sound of ripping fabric. He and Potter both bent their heads to look between their bodies. Severus could immediately see a button and fabric had somehow been entangled with the silver, intricately carved buckle of Potter’s belt. Damn the man for not having the sense to wear a robe. His eyes shot up to glare at Potter.

“What is that?” Potter looked guiltily up at him. “Are you seriously so conceited that you had a _buckle_ fashioned after the Deathly Hallows?” Potter shook his head vehemently.

“Luna’s father gave it to me.” Severus growled at the man beneath him.

“Well, it’s going to have to come off.” Potter blinked owlishly, swallowed, and gave a soft nod.

“Yes, sir.”

Severus rolled his eyes and carefully moved his injured hand between their joined bodies. He hissed in pain as he attempted to angle his wrist to work Potter’s belt loose. Tanned hands joined his.

“Here, let me.” Severus gave a huff as he rested his aching wrist against Potter’s chest, just over the man’s pounding heart. Potter fiddled with the buckle for a few seconds before letting out a huff of air. “I can’t…” Potter wriggled his other arm between them, and Severus felt the tugging on his robe and Potter’s knuckles poking into his stomach.

“Stop poking me, Potter.”

“Sorry, I…” Severus’s arm was starting to ache from holding his weight off the man beneath him.

“Hurry up, Potter,” he snapped. “Get the damn thing off.”

Potter let out a frustrated breath. “I’m trying, Snape. Have a little patience.”

“I ran out of patience ten minutes ago, Potter. Get. That. Damn. Belt. Off!” Severus shifted over the man to ease the ache in his arm. A second later Potter let out a small huff of joy, and Severus felt the tugging on his robe cease.

“Finally,” Potter cried and began moving beneath Severus as he slid his belt from around his waist. Now that Potter didn’t need to see, Severus lowered his arm to rest his weight on his forearm rather than just his palm. Potter’s hips shifted beneath him, the slender hips pressing up against Severus as Potter worked the belt through the loops at his back. “Almost... there,” Potter said with a small grunt as his back hit the stone flooring. “I need…” Potter’s hand slid back between them, and Severus could feel the belt sliding free of the final loop. ”Done!” Potter cried triumphantly.

“Gentlemen.”

Severus and Potter’s heads both snapped up at the stern tone to see Minerva and several students standing in the entrance hall watching them. Minerva’s lips were thin, her arms crossed over her chest, and a foot tapping on the stone floor. Severus glanced at the students behind her, several of them gaping or blushing furiously. Some of the older students had their hands over the eyes of the younger ones, while others covered their mouths as if to stifle the giggles. Severus immediately realized what the two of them must look like, and he let out a near-silent groan. Beneath him, Potter must have come to the same conclusion because he suddenly let out a small “eep.” Severus glanced down at him to see the face flushed a bright red.

“I swear it’s not what it looks like, Headmistress. It’s completely innocent!” Potter cried.

Severus rolled his eyes and pushed himself up. He used his injured hand to press the belt against his robe and the torn fabric. He shook his hair from his eyes and met Minerva’s eyes, even as Potter scrambled to his feet beside him.

“Professor Potter was, as usual, not paying attention,” Severus said icily, “and ran into me. In his typical clumsy way he managed to land us both on the floor, getting his ridiculous buckle entangled in my robes. Now, if we are quite done here, I have a robe to repair, a wrist that needs seeing to, and a dinner to partake of. Good evening.” And with that Severus turned on his heels and stalked back towards his quarters.

Two hours later, Severus sat in front of his fireplace, an untouched tumbler of firewhiskey in one hand, and the thumb of his other absentmindedly running along the silver outline of the triangle that had ripped through his robes earlier. He had easily gotten the buckle untangled and his robe repaired while he waited for a house elf to bring him a dinner tray. He had made it through his solitary meal before his mind had begun to allow the events of that evening to sink in.

Seven years ago, Harry Potter had died for the wizarding world, come back to defeat Voldemort, and saved Severus’s life. Well, to an extent. If the boy and his sidekicks hadn’t returned to the shack, no amount of protective anti-venom would have helped after Nagini’s vicious attack. Thanks to Poppy’s attentions, Severus had been back in his position as Potions Master before the start of the new school year. And thanks to Potter’s testimony, Severus had been free to accept the offer of said position. Severus had fallen back into the routine of teaching, and Potter had gone to join the Auror Corp as expected. Only, come to find out, the boy had a knack for de-cursing objects and was quickly snatched away by Gringotts after less than a year. Potter had spent five years traveling for the bank before he’d had a falling out with one of the goblins and been fired on the spot. Severus still did not know the specifics as Gringotts was keeping their mouth shut, and he suspected Potter had had to take a vow of secrecy as well. At the news that Harry Potter, Savior, Golden Boy, etc., etc., etc. was jobless, Minerva had immediately offered him the professorship of the Defense position. Of course Potter had quickly snatched it up.

While Severus had occasionally seen the Gryffindor since his return to the living, the arrival of the No-Longer-a-Boy Who Lived had put them in closer contact than they had been in since Potter’s school days. Unfortunately for Severus, this resulted in the complete and utter reminder that he was gay, and not just gay, but gay and single for longer than he wished to remember. Potter was no longer an underfed, anger-filled waif but a confident, well-muscled man. He was still shorter than Severus, if only by a few inches, and he still easily stumbled over his words when Severus took the time to be intimidating, but he was much more carefree and confident than he had been in his youth. Another bonus was the man no longer resembled his father quite so much. His cheekbones had become more prominent, his eyes more almond-shaped, framed by luscious, dark lashes, and his neck seemed just a tad longer, all traits he no doubt got from Lily. It seemed the Evans line was finally starting to show its roots.

Severus had done well in hiding his burgeoning attractions to the delectable Gryffindor, keeping the youngest staff member at arm’s length. At least until Potter had approached him during the winter holidays about starting another dueling club. The man had humbly admitted that it had been Severus’s own dueling lessons that had allowed Potter to win the war. But it was the rakish smirk the green-eyed man gave when he promised not to put on a Lockhart-style farce that had Severus agreeing. He supposed it was inevitable that the time they spent together planning the club’s activities and lessons would result in a sort of friendship. By the end of the previous term Potter had begun to see past Severus’s defensive insults and actually seemed to get Severus’s humor. There had been one or two instances when Severus thought Potter might be interested in more but the man would always blush and turn his attention elsewhere.

There was no doubt the Boy Wonder was gay. Not after he had announced it loud and clear in the middle of Diagon Alley three years earlier. Apparently, he and the Weasley chit had gotten into yet another public argument that she seemed to be so fond of. Severus had witnessed one such argument over a year after the Final Battle at a Ministry function. The second the chit had raised her voice, Potter had tried to shush her and drag her to a more private area. She had stubbornly dug in her heels and proceeded to decry something or other. When Potter had realized she wasn’t about to allow them to argue in private he had placed a silencing spell around them. Severus wondered why he put up with it and wasn’t surprised when the paper headlines screamed about a breakup a year later. The Weaslette had not given up. Until the day in Diagon Alley when he had finally screamed back at her that they would never get back together because he was gay. And that had been that.

Severus finally took a sip of the gold liquid as he remembered the feel of the lithe body under his. No longer distracted by his anger and impatience, Severus remembered the feel of Potter’s nimble fingers working against Severus’s stomach as he tried to get to his belt buckle. The feel of Potter pressing up against Severus as he worked his belt through the loops at his back. The younger man’s warm breath on Severus’s cheek. The little sounds Potter made; the grunt as they’d fallen, the huffs of breath as the man had struggled with his belt, the small cry of triumph when he’d finally freed himself. Severus wondered if the man made such delicious sounds when he was being thoroughly ravished. A shiver raced down Severus’s body at the thought of having Potter beneath him in a different situation. One that wasn’t so completely innocent. 

 

## Part 2: Up against a Wall

Harry Potter, current professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts made his way down the corridor, wary as always of the appearance of Peeves. The Poltergeist had let up considerably since Harry had returned as a professor, but Harry had learned his lesson as a student. Harry was sure Peeves was a Slytherin in his former life. It was perhaps the only excuse for his respect of the Bloody Baron. There had been a time, just after the Final Battle, when Peeves had shown a grudging respect for Harry. Sadly, that time was long past. Harry sighed at the memory.

“Walk,” Harry warned the second year Hufflepuff trio that was coming up the corridor. They smiled brightly at him and waved as they scuttled past on their way to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. It had been a Hogsmeade weekend, and he had little doubt most of the students were already hyped on Honeydukes and Wheezes. Fortunately he had had a late tea with Ron and Hermione and was still feeling the effects so wasn’t worried about the normally overly-sweet offerings at this time of year. He did hope to snatch a pumpkin pasty before Aurora snagged them all as she had the previous year.

Harry thought back over how his life had changed since he had been at Hogwarts as a student. Even while the trials had been going on, Harry and Ron had been in Auror training; Harry only missing the week he had needed to be at the Ministry courts for Snape’s and then the Malfoys’ trials. He was glad Minerva had been so eager to offer the Potions Master his post back and to know that Snape was able to return to Hogwarts. It had been on September first following the Final Battle that things had begun to change.

He and Ron had volunteered to join the King’s Cross patrol in order to see Hermione off. While Harry had been scanning the crowds he had noticed a dark aura emanating from a third year’s trunk. Bringing this to Head Auror Robard’s attention had resulted in a small party of Aurors pulling the girl aside. She had burst into tears and spilled the story of how her uncle had made her do it. Harry had somehow immediately known how to de-curse the object, and the girl had continued on her way. The uncle had been brought in for questioning and, the last Harry had heard, was still doing time in Azkaban. It hadn’t taken long for Gringotts to make a tempting offer that allowed Harry to travel and see a bit of the world as he worked with specialists on some of the more difficult cases.

Harry’s lips pulled into a frown as he recalled the difficulty he had faced with the Gringotts branch in India. After dealing with the head of their curse department, Harry had decided it was time to find something else to do. Gringotts had hated to lose him, but Harry had agreed to stay on the payroll as a consultant if something difficult came up. He still wasn’t sure where the rumor had come from about his being fired. When he’d met with Griphook over the summer to get the details of a job in Spain the goblin had laughed about it and said the bank hadn’t refuted the claim since it gave the goblins something to tease the wizards about. Harry had shrugged and caught the next portkey to Madrid.

When Minerva had owled him about the DADA professor leaving and, once again, asked him to consider the position, Harry had finally agreed. He still had his “summer” job which allowed him to travel, and Harry really thought he didn’t want to chase after dark wizards anymore. He had always assumed he would be an Auror, but after Voldemort and his short stint as an Auror, he rather thought he was over that. His years as a curse breaker had given him a different perspective, and he rather thought he preferred the calmer lifestyle. So he had returned to Hogwarts, this time as a teacher.

While teaching regular classes was completely different than teaching the DA in secret, stolen meetings, he still got that little flash of pride when a student managed to perform a spell just right. It had been one of the seventh years that had brought up the idea of a dueling club. He had asked about Harry’s “signature” spell and where he had learned it, so Harry explained about the dueling club in his second year. Interest had been sparked and Harry had worked up the courage to speak to Snape.

Severus Snape. As if Harry hadn’t already been fighting off his attraction to the dark-eyed man. He didn’t even know when it had begun. He had discovered during the Horcrux hunt that he wasn’t opposed to the idea of a male lover but had pushed it aside upon the end of the war to work on his paused relationship with Ginny. He had convinced himself he was merely bi and that he owed her a chance since his very reasoning for ending the relationship had been her safety. It hadn’t taken him long to realize two things. Number one; Ginny truly was _only_ in love with the Boy Who Lived: she never had, apparently, gotten over her childish crush on him. She was set on being the wife of the Chosen One, had envisioned him as Head Auror if not the Minister of Magic. The offer from Gringotts was not in her plans. Neither was Harry being gay. Which was the second thing he had realized. They had had sex a total number of two times, both initiated by her, and which he had participated in, first out of guilt then out of sense of duty. It was during their second time together when Harry had closed his eyes to picture the devastatingly sexy Australian diplomat that had escorted the Grangers home that he finally admitted he might not be bi after all. Especially as he’d had to clamp his lips closed from calling out the man’s name as he finally came. Ginny had not taken the breakup well, and he had used this to his advantage when he decided he was ready to come out. He still smiled at the memory of her expression and Skeeter’s eager gleam as she’d stood under the awning of the owl emporium eagerly taking notes.

Upon returning to Hogwarts, Harry’s eyes had immediately sought out the dark spy, vowing to find some way to form a friendship with the man. The seventh year’s plea for a dueling club had been the perfect motive. Harry had been surprised when it had actually worked. Over time, he had come to read between Snape’s sarcasm and humor, surprised to realize he and Snape shared a similar sense of dry wit. He had caught himself almost pushing the friendship too far a few times near the end of the year and was grateful Griphook had owled with the few jobs that had come up. Harry had needed the space to calm himself, not wanting to push Snape before he was comfortable.

And then had been that blasted day over a month ago when he’d run into Snape. Literally run into the man causing them to fall and Snape to end up on top of Harry. If Harry hadn’t been so embarrassed at the time he might have taken the time to relish in the feel of Snape over him, pinning him to the ground with his weight. Harry recalled the feel of Snape’s firm abs brushing against Harry’s knuckles, those strong thighs pressing against Harry’s. If Harry hadn’t been in panic mode at the time he very well might have given Snape something else to berate him about. Or press his thighs against. Yes, Harry liked that idea.

Harry shook his head to get the thought out of his mind. He did not need those thoughts fresh on his mind when he was on his way to a room full of hormonal teenagers. It was bad enough that he had actually been _hit_ on during the first Hogsmeade weekend last year by a seventh year and had received no less than fifty Valentines last term: he did not need to walk into the Great Hall with a raging erection. Of course by the time he actually made it to the Great Hall he would probably be just fine. He still needed to change into his professor’s robes after his tea with Ron and Hermione.

He had just stepped off the stairs when he heard Peeve’s familiar laughter. He cursed silently and looked for a classroom to duck into but the immediate hallway was empty of doors. Even knowing the pesky poltergeist was there, Harry still jumped when the near-ghost appeared in front of him. The jester-like smile grinned chaotically at Harry, startling him backwards. Before Harry could even admonish the jokester, Peeves whirled around Harry with a maniacal laugh. Harry felt something splash against the back of his robes, and Peeves whooshed off with another round of maniacal laughter floating after him. Harry sighed. Well, at least he had already been on his way to his quarters to change. With a shake of his head, Harry continued on his way.

“Potter.” Harry’s head jerked up to see Snape coming from the corridor that led to the hospital wing, and he gave a slight nod.

“Evening, Snape.” Snape waved his greeting off as he stopped almost in front of Harry.

“If you plan on re-instituting the dueling club you will need to attend me at your earliest convenience,” Snape said imperiously. “I do not have the time to sit around wondering if I should expect another ambush during the winter holidays.”

Harry bit back his smile at the verbose hint and gave a slight nod. “I had intended to seek you out this week. I had thought-”

Harry’s words were interrupted by a loud trumpeting and the sound of pounding hoofbeats. Harry spun around at the sound at the same time Snape’s head shot up to look behind Harry.

“What the-” Snape hissed.

Suddenly they were facing a barrage of horses carrying headless ghosts and bouncing heads flying through the air. Harry had seen the Headless Hunters before, and he assumed Snape had as well. They were both used to encountering ghosts, knew the physiology of spectres, but sometimes knowledge was thrown out the window when faced with a herd of thundering cattle. Which is how Harry found himself pressed against the wall with Snape at his back, as if the man were still protecting him after all these years. Harry closed his eyes against the cold air that rushed past them as the hunt proceeded down the corridor.

“Bloody ghosts,” Snape mumbled and made to pull away. “What the hell?”

Harry turned his head to try to see Snape out of the corner of his eye. “What’s wrong?”

“I. Can’t. Move,” Snape said between gritted teeth.

“What?” Harry said in confusion. He pushed back against Snape but the man’s hand stayed attached to the wall just over Harry’s shoulder.

“Ouch! That hurt, you imbecile. What part of ‘I can’t move’ did you not understand?”

“Why can’t you move?” Harry asked as he pressed back once more.

“Stop moving,” Snape hissed, and Harry froze. He was pushed roughly up against the wall and a huff of air was forced from his lungs. “What the bloody hell have you got on your robes, Potter?”

Harry groaned and let his head fall forward against the cold stone wall. “Peeves.”

Snape gave a snort, and Harry felt a tug on his robe. “I assure you, Potter, this is not the remains of that irksome poltergeist no matter how much I might wish it.”

Harry shook his head. “No. The stupid idiot drenched me in something. Must be some sort of paste.” Snape let out a low growl, and Harry was suddenly very glad he had been pressed with his front against the wall.

“Dammit. I knew I hadn’t used all my epoxy paste.” Harry felt his face pale.

“Epoxy.”

Snape let out another growl. “Yes.” Harry let his eyes travel up to where Snape’s hand was braced against the wall.

“How did you get it on your hand?” Harry asked weakly.

Snape let out a huff of air that blew across the nape of Harry’s neck. “Apparently when I went to push you out of the way my hand brushed your robe.” Harry swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I don’t suppose magical epoxy is easier to remove than regular epoxy?” he asked with little hope. Behind him Snape was mute, and Harry could almost feel the man’s glare on the back of his head. “Right. Well, what about a spell?”

Snape gave a small huff of air. “Magical epoxy, like the muggle version, can only be removed with a solvent, Potter.”

Harry perked up. “Have you got any in your lab?”

“And what good will it do in my lab, Potter, when we are clearly _stuck_ out here?” Harry flinched at the biting words.

“We could have someone fetch it.” There was movement behind him, and he felt Snape turn from side to side.

“Yes. I’ll just send one of these myriads of peoples gawking at us, shall I? You there, mind going to my private lab, bypassing my private wards, and ransacking my _private_ stock of potions to fetch us a solvent you clearly have no idea what looks like?” Harry felt Snape’s long hair brush against his neck and shivered as hot breath brushed across his ear. “Imagine that, Potter. No takers.” Harry suppressed a shiver.

“We can send a Patronus to the headmistress,” Harry suggested through gritted teeth. Snape didn’t have to be such an arse... even if he did have a nice one.

“My wand hand,” Snape said with a definite sneer in his voice, “is currently glued to the wall, Potter. And my wand is firmly attached to the holster up my sleeve. Had I known you were planning on gluing us to the castle wall, I would have been better prepared.”

Harry huffed in annoyance. “It wasn’t my fault, Snape. You're the one that pushed me against the wall to avoid a herd of _ghostly_ horses.”

“My mistake for allowing my instincts to overtake my good judgement.” Snape’s leg shifted against Harry’s, and he bit back a moan as the strong thigh brushed against his. How the hell could he be so aroused by the man when Snape was in the middle of being a total git? “After so many years of saving your hide it just comes natural. I shall attempt to resist next time I perceive you in mortal peril.” Snape shifted his leg again. “Oh Bloody hell!” Harry jumped, his backside accidentally rubbing against Snape.

“What?”

“Apparently some of the epoxy dripped from your robe to the floor.” Snape’s thigh jerked against Harry’s leg as he attempted to pull his foot back. “And now my bloody boot is stuck to the floor. You, Mr. Potter, are a detriment to my safety.”

Harry let out a sigh but bit back the apology. This absolutely had not been his fault, and he’d be damned if he said sorry once for it. Snape let out a huff of air the caused Harry’s hair to flutter.

“Fine. We shall send a Patronus. Where is your wand, Potter?” Harry attempted to lift his own foot but it stuck fast to the ground. He clamped his mouth shut, feeling his face burn in embarrassment. Oh, Snape was going to kill him. “Potter,” Snape said in a warning tone. Harry swallowed.

“My boot,” he whispered meekly.

“I’m sorry,” Snape said in a tone that clearly meant he wasn’t. He leaned his head towards Harry’s ear. “ _Where…_ did you say it was?”

Harry cleared his throat. “My boot,” he repeated a bit louder.

“WHAT,” Snape roared, causing Harry to jump, “possessed you to put your wand in your _boot?_ Did you have moronic dreams of only being attacked whilst you were knelt down _tying_ your shoes, if you do indeed know how to even accomplish such a mundane task? Or perhaps you foolishly believed that your attackers would call out a warning, giving you ample time to retrieve your wand from whichever idiotic place you thought to stow it. Assuming you even remembered to have it on your person.”

Harry sighed. “We are in the school, Snape. I know what these children are capable of. I am the Defense professor after all.”

“Yes,” Snape hissed, “and one would think the _Defense_ professor would know enough about _defense_ to know to properly carry their wand at all times. Or at least have it in easy reach.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I can do enough wandless to protect myself from the students, Snape.”

“Excellent,” Snape said snidely. “Cast a Patronus, and summon Minerva.” Harry sagged against the wall, knowing what was next. Snape did not disappoint. “Oh that’s right. Not even Dumbledore could summon a Patronus wandless as it’s a highly complex spell that requires a _wand_!”

“Maybe,” Harry said between clenched teeth, “we can reach it if we work together.”

Snape huffed. “Fine.”

Harry pressed back against Snape. “Scoot back as far as you can,” Harry said softly, and Snape complied, although it wasn’t much. Harry bent over, Snape’s weight heavy on his back. Harry had a flash of what it would be like if they were bent over a desk like this. Well, not exactly like this, preferably with a lot less clothing. And epoxy. Harry stretched his hand down, straining to reach the leg of his jeans under his robe so he could pull it up to retrieve his wand. He flushed in embarrassment. Snape was right, it really hadn’t been a good idea to put his wand there. He wasn’t even sure why he had done it, as he typically slipped his wand into his back pocket. He let out a huff of air.

“I can’t reach it.”

“Typical,” Snape said with a huff, straightening himself up and pulling Harry with him.

“So what now?” Harry asked warily.

Snape snorted. “Now we wait.” Harry groaned and leaned his head against the wall.

Harry wasn’t sure how long they stood there, both men shifting occasionally to offer a slight bit of comfort to their increasingly aching muscles. Harry had attempted to speak to Snape about the dueling club since they were apparently both free at the moment. Snape had growled and snapped that he wasn’t in the mood to do more than hex Harry at the moment let alone speak to the man. Harry snapped his mouth shut. Sometime later Harry let out a groan and banged his head against the wall.

“I do not think that will get it to work at this late date, Potter.”

“Shut it, Snape,” Harry snapped. His late tea had worn off, his muscles hurt from standing in the same position for Merlin knew how long, and he needed to piss. “I don’t need your input at the moment.” Harry began working the buttons loose on his robe. “I had an idea, and you can’t berate me for it because I thought of it first even if it did take me this long.”

He could feel Snape’s glare on the back of his head. “And what, pray tell, is this brilliant idea, Potter?”

Harry tossed a look over his shoulder and smiled at Snape. “I just have to take my robe off, then I can reach my wand.” Snape’s eyes widened in surprise, and Harry smiled smugly at him. Snape closed his eyes and groaned, possibly at his own thoughtlessness or the fact that Harry had actually come up with a brilliant idea. Harry went back to work on his buttons, a smile on his face.

“Then by all means, Mr. Potter,” Snape said in a husky voice that sent goosebumps over Harry’s body, “disrobe as quickly as you can. I wait with bated breath for you to shed your clothing.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up.

“Gentlemen?”

Both heads turned to see the Headmistress standing only a few feet from them, lips thin, arms crossed, toe tapping.

“I can explain,” Harry blurted. “It’s completely innocent.” 

 

## Part 3: Burning Desires

It was almost enough to keep Severus away from Potter. Almost.

After Minerva had gone to Severus’s private lab to retrieve the epoxy solvent she had warned in a teasing tone about he and Potter staying away from walls and floors. He had brushed past her to get to his quarters and immediately stepped into the shower. He had closed his eyes and relived the feeling of Potter’s tight bum pressed against him, their thighs sliding against each other as they shifted, and, once again, the small sounds Potter made. The man was definitely a testament to Severus’s patience and self control. Once again he’d been too annoyed with the man to relish having the slim body pressed intimately against him.

Nearly a month later Severus still fantasized about having Potter bent over his desk, couch, any available surface really. Oh, how he’d love to run his hands down that slender body, wrap his fingers around that delicate waist, and press his aching cock to that tight arse. He most definitely wasn’t above fantasizing about thrusting into such a delectable morsel and imagining the soft cries that would fall from Potter’s lips as he begged for more. Severus’s arm was getting quite a workout these days.

They had finally started the dueling club back up,; pairing the returning members with their equally-skilled counterparts and assigning the new members to partners. Of course, that also meant Potter was back to visiting Severus’s office on a bi-weekly basis to discuss tactics and the skill of their club members. Potter wanted to hold a dueling contest after OWLs and NEWTs as a sort of celebration for the fifth and seventh years, so that too needed kinks worked out. Although, Severus would much rather work on other kinks he had in mind. But Potter still seemed reticent in pushing their friendship into more, though Severus was fairly certain the man wasn’t completely opposed to the idea. Severus had not missed Potter’s slight blushes the times Severus had dared to mutter double entendres or make sly comments. Had even seen the younger man shift in his chair at the head table the few times Severus had “accidentally” brushed his fingers over Potter’s thigh or knee. Oh yes, the man was definitely interested in what Severus was more than willing to offer.

The question was: how to let Potter know he was interested? As much as he would quite enjoy pinning the man against a wall, again, and kissing him senseless, he didn’t think the school corridors were the appropriate place. Nor did he think Minerva would approve. Not that he needed Minerva’s approval, but he _was_ trying to convince her to hire on an assistant professor to take over the lower classes a few days a week. So, no, he wouldn’t be pressing Potter up against any more corridor walls any time soon. Possibly not against any corridor floors either. Pity. Severus shook the thought from his mind. He really was becoming a randy old goat lately. Just the thought of Potter pressing any part of his Quidditch-toned body against Severus had him almost hard.

A knock at the door pulled Severus from his lustful musings. He stood from his comfortable wingback and made sure his voluminous robes hid the evidence of his current thoughts. He pulled the door open, sneer in place in case it was a student who dared disrupt his Sunday morning. He blinked up at the sight of the grinning half giant.

“Hagrid.”

“‘Ello, Sev’rus. Jus’ came ter tell ya we had our first snow last night.” Severus’s ears perked up at the news.

“Did we? And I assume, since you are here, it stuck.”

Hagrid nodded happily. “Oh yes. Even went by ther edge of the forest. The Pixie Phlox shrubs are a nice ice-blue. Jus’ right fer pickin’.”

Severus gave a nod. “I appreciate the consideration, Hagrid. I will attend them shortly.” The giant gave a nod, waved, and was off.

Severus closed the door and turned back to his rooms. He stepped over to his chair, grabbed the teacup on the small table, and finished it off. The familiar aroma of English Breakfast getting his blood going. He proceeded into his room to pull on a long-sleeve shirt, warm jumper, and thick dragonhide trousers to keep himself warm before pulling his robes on over the entire mess. His next stop was his private lab to gather a basket and clipping shears. He pulled his winter cloak on before stepping from his quarters and heading outside.

Phlox, though normally found in North America, had a rare magical cousin that could be found on the edges of a few certain enchanted forests such as the one near Hogwarts. The Pixie Phlox, so named because Ice Pixies were drawn to the mystical flower, had rare magical properties once fully bloomed. While a novice might assume the typical bright pink color of the Phlox bush meant the flower was in full bloom, someone schooled in Herbology would know that a Pixie Phlox did not bloom until it had properly frozen over, turning the entire flower a pale, ice-blue color. The tricky part was gathering the plant at just the right time. One had to catch the bush before the Ice Pixies were drawn to the plant and began making their home in the bush. Once the pixies had staked their claim, it became quite perilous to attempt to harvest the plant. The ideal time for gathering, then, was just after the first snowfall, when the plant first turned but before the pixies found it.

Severus had noticed the phlox bush over a week ago and it was, therefore, easy to locate once again. He cautiously made his way over to the bush, wary of any early arrivals. He pointed his wand at the large bush and cast a small spell that caused the bush to give a gentle shake. No pixies flew out like angry bees so he made his way closer and knelt down beside the wild plant. He was pleased to see the bush had flowered much more than he had expected and a quick calculation showed him he would be able to gather twice as much as he had expected and still leave enough for the pixies. He cast a Gemino charm on his basket and pulled out his shears. He gently inspected each cluster before snipping them off at the base. If he was lucky he would be able to extract enough phlox milk from the stalk to use in one of his experiments.

He had just filled one basket and was starting on the second when he heard his name called. He looked behind him to see Potter strolling towards him. The man had his hands shoved in the pockets of his too tight jeans (not that Severus was complaining), and a bright orange sweater with a giant H hung on his slender frame. Potter smiled, his wild hair blowing in the breeze and cheeks flushed from Merlin knew what. He waved at Severus and rushed forward.

“What cha doing, Snape?” Potter asked as he dropped to his knees beside Severus. Severus tore his gaze away from the too-bright green of the man’s eyes and clipped off another stalk. He truly wished the man had never heard of muggle contacts, but Potter had and had taken to wearing them when he was flying. Severus gave a mental huff. That would explain the wilder-than-normal hair and the flushed cheeks.

“Been playing with your lions again, Potter?” He glanced at the man, not surprised to see a flash of confusion which quickly turned into a bright smile. Severus turned back to concentrate on the flowers.

“Badgers, actually. Their next game is against Slytherin, you know?” Potter gave his arm a small nudge. “I have to give Gryffindor every advantage I can.” Severus rolled his eyes and clipped off another stalk.

Severus snorted. “Greely is an excellent seeker. The best we’ve had in years.”

He saw Potter’s shadow nod. “True. But so is Thompson, and she’s small for her age. She might be a ‘Puff, but she’s got spunk.”

Severus glanced at Potter. “You know, it’s not very fair for you to offer to help the other houses and not Slytherin. A bit biased, I would think.”

Severus was having a hard time cutting the current stalk as it was tangled up with some others. Potter’s hand appeared to pull the annoying stalks back. “I didn’t offer. The other house captains asked.” Potter leaned in to push more stalks out of the way, his body achingly close to Severus’s, their arms brushing as they worked to free the stem. “So far no Slytherins have asked me to play with them,” Potter said huskily, and Severus clenched his fingers around the shears to keep his hand steady. “I’d be happy to show off my moves.” From the corner of his eye, Severus saw Potter lick his lips. “If anyone were interested.”

Oh, he was definitely interested. A far-off shout pulled him from his lusty haze, and he snatched up the snipped stem and tossed it in his basket. “I think that’ll do for now.”

Potter pulled away, a small smile on his lips, and Severus stood. “Need help?” Potter asked, grabbing a basket before Severus could reply.

“Be gentle with those, Potter. That is my entire stock for the next year.” He shoved his shears in his pocket and grabbed up the other basket. Potter glanced at the bush behind them.

“Why didn’t you gather them all, then? Surely they only need a few flowers to re-pollinate.”

Severus began walking back towards the castle, and Potter followed. “It is only polite to leave enough flowers for the Ice Pixies to nest in; after all, I did just desecrate their natural habitat.”

Potter looked at him in horror. “Pixies! Not the Cornish kind I hope,” he added with a shudder.

Severus gave the younger wizard a glaring look. “I said ‘Ice Pixies’, Potter. Much calmer than their Cornish cousins unless aggravated. The tend to make their home in frozen phlox, therefore it is ideal to harvest the flowers before they become infested.”

“Oh!” Potter said as if something had just occurred to him, which apparently it had. “That must be what Neville meant at breakfast when he asked Hagrid if he’d told you about the freeze last night.” Severus nodded but didn’t feel a verbal response was required. They reached the courtyard before Potter spoke again. “So how come I don’t remember using phlox in any of the potions we brewed in classes?”

“Most likely because you barely remember anything you brewed, Potter,” Severus said blandly, and Harry snorted. “Also, because I do not waste my phlox on blundering dolts. Firegolds work just as well for the level of potions that schoolchildren are required to brew. The magical sibling to the marigold only requires the addition of mint to achieve the same properties as frozen phlox and is readily more available in bulk.”

“Though you’re no less likely to bite someone’s head off for wasting the firegold than you are the phlox,” Potter said in a teasing tone, and Severus fought the blush that threatened his cheeks.

“Wasting ingredients is wasting ingredients, Potter.” They moved down the stairs to the dungeons each carrying their basket.

“So, I suppose next is extracting the usable bits?” Severus turned a smile on Potter and was pleased to see the man’s green eyes widen and his cheeks turn a soft pink. He did so love the delectable look of a blushing Potter.

“Very good, Potter.” He leaned closer to the man as they entered the darker corridor of the dungeons. “I’d award house points if you were still a student.” Potter’s blush deepened, and Severus thought he detected a slight shiver. He pulled back, remembering their penchant for walls and floors. “Although, the rare thing about frozen phlox is that each part is usable in potions. The trick is separating them accordingly. Tedious but a bit mindless if you know what you are doing.” Severus shot the Gryffindor a sly look. “Perhaps even mindless enough that _you_ could perform such a task.” To his delight, Potter laughed, the deep sound echoing off the corridor walls and making Severus regret his decision to abstain from pressing the DADA professor against said walls.

“If that’s so, then allow me to offer my services for the afternoon.” Severus tossed a disbelieving look at the man.

“You wish to aide me?” Potter shrugged.

“I don’t really have anything else to do. Besides,” he added with a sly smile and wink towards Severus, “we haven’t tried to kill each other in a few years, and we seem to be getting along fairly decently these days.”

Severus wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to spend time in Potter’s company nor free labor. “Alright. I suppose we can test my theory about the lack of brainpower needed to dissect this particular plant.” He bit back a smile as Potter’s laughter once more echoed around him. They made their way to Severus’s private lab, and Potter’s basket landed on the table beside Severus’s. He indicated Potter’s jumper. “The work can get a bit tedious. I would suggest removing your warmer clothing so you are not sweating all over my lab. I will return momentarily.” Potter gave a distracted nod as he looked around the lab and the myriad of jars and vials that lined the shelves. Severus stepped into his outer office and quickly pulled off his robe and jumper. He grabbed his robe, leaving the jumper on his chair, and stepped back into the lab. Potter had removed his jumper to reveal a light blue button down. He was in the process of rolling up his sleeves when Severus returned. He smiled and held out his arms to display his attire.

“Acceptable?” Potter inquired. Severus rather the thought the term was ‘exceptional’, but he merely snorted and moved over to a work table. He pulled one of the baskets over towards him as Potter moved up to the table as well. Severus motioned the man to join him on the same side, and Potter did so as Severus pulled several stalks from the basket. He separated one from the others and held it up.

“You will start by milking the stems.”

Potter grinned at him. “Is that like milking a snake? Because no matter how nicely I hiss at it, I don’t think it’s going to spit into a cup for me.”

Severus glared at the man. “It is not- wait. Snakes _spit_ into a cup for you?”

Potter nodded. “Yeah. They much prefer to force the venom out of their fangs rather than being forced to simulate biting. Plus they’re more likely to produce more venom that way.”

“I might have to take you along next time I-” Severus shook his head to get his mind back on track. “Focus, Potter.” The man chuckled. “Milking a stem is not like milking a snake or any other animal for that matter. You start by cutting the stem just here,” he indicated a spot just below where the bundle of flowers met. “Make sure to cut far enough down that the flowers stay attached.” He picked up a pair of floral scissors and snipped the stem, letting the flowers land gently on the table. “Do not cut too high off the table. You don’t want the flowers to land too heavily and knock pollen everywhere.” He glanced up, and Potter gave a nod of understanding. Severus moved the bundle of flowers across the table. “I will work on the flowers.” Severus lay the stem on the small flat board that rested on the table, making sure the bottom of the stem was just at the edge where it dipped down into a groove that went around the board. He picked up the small, smoothed marble pestle and placed it at the end of the stem nearest him. He looked up to see Potter watching him. “Roll it along the stem, Potter. Do not scrap it, you will ruin the stem; you merely wish to squeeze the milk out, not destroy the plant.” He backed up a step and motioned for Potter to take his place. Potter placed his hand on the pestle and moved in front of the stem. Severus moved behind Potter and placed his hand over Potter’s. He bit back a smile as Potter stiffened against him. He ignored the man’s palpable tension and guided Potter’s strong fingers to roll the pestle over the stem. “Ease the milk out, Potter,” he said softly against the man’s ear. “Slowly so the opaque excretion flows easily. Too fast can cause your stem to erupt unexpectedly, and you’re left with a mess of white substance that makes everything sticky when it dries.” He smiled when he heard a soft intake of air from Potter. “Do you think you can handle that, Potter?”

“Y-yes,” the younger wizard said breathlessly, and Severus moved away. He saw Potter slump slightly as if he’d been holding himself stiff. Severus moved around the table.

“I’ll start on the flowers. Just set the stems aside for now as they’ll be preserved to be diced or sliced as needed.” Potter nodded, and they set to work. Severus was surprised to see Potter work so diligently, the muscles of his arm rippling as he rolled the pestle over the stem. Severus dragged his eyes back to his own work. The lab was silent as they worked; the sound of the marble pestle rolling over the board and Severus’s steady _click, click, click_ of his knife against the cutting board were the only sounds.

The silence was broken by a flurry of movement and Potter’s cry of “Shite!” Severus looked up to see a wild, ice-blue pixie fluttering around Potter. Potter backed up frantically as he tried to bat the furious creature away from his face. Severus’s wand slid into his hand and he aimed a freezing spell at the fluttering creature. “Fuck!” Potter cried, ducking away from the impact of the spell at the same time that the pixie shot off over his head. “I thought they weren’t supposed to have built their nests yet.” Potter swatted at the pest intent on attacking his wild mop of hair.

“They shouldn’t have,” Severus said in confusion as he aimed at the blasted creature again. Once again it zoomed behind Potter. “I even shook the bush before I started. Even if it had been asleep that should have woken it.”

“Well obviously it didn’t.” Potter swatted once more, his hand finally knocking against the creature and sending it flying backwards. Potter pulled his own wand from his back pocket and aimed it at the creature just as it grabbed a small jar off a nearby shelf and lobbed it at Potter. Severus Summoned the jar before it could hit the other professor but the pixie had already tossed two more at Potter. Severus Summoned a second and third jar but he was running out of hands. Potter pointed his wand at the creature.

“Potter, no!” Severus watched as the jet of orange light shot through the two jars directly in front of Potter, and the pixie froze in mid air before dropping with a thud to the floor. Severus watched in horror as the two volatile ingredients splattered over Potter’s arms and chest. The man’s face was saved only by his instincts to raise his arms in protection. Severus shoved the jars in his hand onto the table and ran across the room. “Don’t touch anything, Harry,” he warned as he grabbed Potter’s shirt and ripped it open, buttons scattering along the floor.

“Fuck. Fuck, Severus. It burns.”

“Of course it burns, you idiot,” he said as he yanked Potter’s shirt down his arms and tossed it aside. “That was dragon saliva and volcano ash. Either one a caustic substance on its own.” He could already see the blisters forming on Potter’s arms and chest where the acidic duet had burned through his thin shirt. Severus Accioed the burn salve he kept on his first aid shelf. He placed a hand gently against Potter’s back. “Lay down, I need to get this salve on you. The longer we wait to treat it the worse it’ll be.” Potter nodded and carefully lowered himself to the ground. Severus knelt down beside him and unscrewed the cap of the salve. He let his eyes roam Potter’s reddened body. The green eyes were closed tightly as the man worked to keep an even breath. “The underside of your arms received the worst.” Severus ran a hand over the unscorched hair of Potter’s arms. “Place them over your head to keep the weight off the tender part.” Potter nodded and stretched his hands over his head. Severus leaned over Potter and gently applied the salve to the blistered arms. Potter hissed and Severus gave a soft apology. He finished and pulled back to let his eyes asses the slender figure. Potter’s torso was as tanned as the rest of him and his stomach dipped gently in the middle. There was very little hair around the dusky nipples but a thick line led down into the jeans below his navel. Severus let his eyes travel along the hem of the jeans that clung to Potter’s defined hips. A spot of red just above the waistline caught Severus’s eye. “You got a bit under your jeans. I’m going to have to pull them down a bit.” Potter gave a nod, not even opening his eyes.

“Yeah. ‘K,” he said breathlessly. Severus placed the salve on the floor and reached down to pop the button on Potter’s jeans, giving himself a mental admonishment at the direction of his thoughts. He lowered the zip and pulled the jeans down on the injured side just enough to expose the blistering flesh. He carefully applied more salve, and Potter jerked with a hiss beneath him.

“I apologize, Potter.” Potter shook his head.

“It’s fine. Not your fault.” Severus moved up to apply more salve to Potter’s chest, carefully running his coated fingers over the man’s muscled chest. Green eyes fluttered open to meet his, and Potter gave a weak smile. “Guess I haven’t got enough brains for such mundane tasks after all.”

Severus gave a snort and applied the salve to a small spot near Potter’s dusky nipple. “Next time we shall make sure you are properly prepared. Perhaps then we can minimize the pain to your person.”

“Gentlemen?”

Severus’s head snapped up to see the headmistress standing in the doorway of his open lab, arms crossed, lips thin, toe tapping on the stone floor. He glanced down to where his hand rested on Potter’s naked chest and took in the unzipped jeans. Potter groaned and squeezed his eyes closed. Severus looked back up at Minerva.

“I assure you this is all quite completely innocent.” 

 

## Part 4: Snakish Nibbles

Harry rubbed absentmindedly at his chest. It had been a habit in the last month since the accident in the lab. He could barely remember the feel of Snape’s hands on his chest he had been in so much pain, the ripped shirt was proof enough that it had happened though. And had Snape really unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down? Okay, so he hadn’t exactly pulled them _down_ ; had probably barely pulled them low enough to see Harry’s pants. He _had_ been wearing the bikini briefs that day, and they rode pretty low on his hips. But the fact remained that Snape had practically- no, _had_ undressed Harry mostly, and he’d been in too much damn pain to enjoy it. Just once he’d like to be caught in a situation with Snape where he could actually enjoy the compromising positions they seem to be finding themselves in lately.

He’d made the mistake of writing about them to Ron, who had shared the letter with Hermione, unsurprisingly. Not that he had anything against both his best friends knowing, but typical Hermione had written back about subconsciously setting oneself up, Freudian slips, and a whole list of muggle psychological terminology. Harry thought about writing her back and telling her they were merely accidents and he actually was not intent on completely humiliating himself just to catch Snape’s attention. He didn’t need any cosmic interference to make a fool of himself;  he was doing just fine on his own, thanks. Ron had just told him to go for it.

Regardless of his own feelings, he was content to let things progress at a natural pace. He and Snape had just settled into a comfortable friendship, and he didn’t want to muck that up by pushing for more. He knew Snape was a highly suspicious person, so Harry had every intention of taking things slow. Perhaps by the end of next term, Harry could start dropping hints that he found the Potions Master attractive and see where it might go from there. Of course, there had been those comments and innuendos Snape slipped into their conversations every so often. Assuming the man was even aware of it. Did he know how sexy his voice sounded when he dropped it to that low and husky tone? Did he realize how elegant his hands were when they gently worked so diligently at his potions?

Harry suppressed a shudder. Snape had actually invited him back into the lab with the statement that Harry probably wasn’t such an idiot after all. Harry had taken it for the compliment it was. Several times over the last month he had taken his grading into the lab and worked on the essays while Snape brewed. Usually, when Snape came to a resting point, Harry would stop his grading and join the other professor for a cup of tea. They talked of more than their shared past and the students they both dealt with on a regular basis. Snape wasn’t surprised at the progress Hermione was making in her latest crusade. Harry mentioned Zabini’s latest line of Wizarding apparel, and Snape agreed it was rather a bit more practical than last year’s designs. Harry listened diligently as Snape ranted about some article in the latest _Potions Monthly_ , and Snape had his own opinion on the French team that was quickly heading to the Quidditch World Cup Finals.

Harry couldn’t really say he was surprised at the things they had in common. Snape had started inviting Harry to his rooms for drinks on the occasional evening neither had anything to do, which seemed to be quite frequent. Harry knew Snape hadn’t stopped handing out detentions so he wondered if the man had taken to handing them off to Filch more than usual. He also couldn’t help but wonder if this was intentional so that Snape might have his evenings free to spend with Harry. It was a nice little thought Harry kept tucked away in his heart, despite how improbable it most likely was.

Harry pushed the pile of essays away, sliding them across the desk, and pressed his fingers under his glasses to rub at his eyes. There was only a week left until the students left for the winter holidays, and it showed. Wand work had become lackadaisical, students were easily distracted, and the essays were barely legible. Even the Ravenclaws were turning in essays that barely reached the required length. He was tempted to have practical pop quizzes for all his classes next week just to avoid grading any actual work. He looked up thankfully at the knock on his office door.

“Enter.” He smiled when Hagrid walked in. “Hello, Hagrid.” The half giant smiled brightly.

“Hello, Harry. I’m glad I caught you before you headed to lunch.” Hagrid moved into the room and closed the door behind him. “I wanted ter ask if you could have a look ‘round Greenhouse four. Pomona swears she saw a snake in there, but I’m jus’ too big ter see under the tables. Plus with your ability…”

Harry smiled at his friend and pushed away from his desk to stand up. “Sure, Hagrid. No problem. I was just looking for an excuse to take a break,” he indicated the desk of scrolls, and Hagrid nodded knowingly. Harry made his way around his desk and followed Hagrid out into the corridor.

“Any plans for Christmas, Harry?”

Harry shrugged. “Boxing Day at the Burrow, but other than that, not really. You?” They skirted around a group of students clustered at the top of the stairs.

“Olympe invited me to her cabin in Switzerland.” Harry glanced at his friend to see the rugged cheeks turn pink. Harry chuckled and shook his head.

“When are you two just going to set a date already?” Hagrid’s cheeks went redder.

“We’ve talked about it.” Harry chuckled. “I should go let the Headmistress know I’ve sent you after the snake.”

“Alright, Hagrid. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, Harry. Be careful. Pomona wasn’t sure what kind of snake it was.”

Harry gave a wave as they separated. “I will,” he promised.

Harry made his way down to the ground floor and towards the greenhouses. He had a vague regret for not remembering his cloak, but the moment he stepped into the humid greenhouse he disregarded it. The windows were already foggy from the wintry cold, but the warmth felt nice after being outside. He vaguely wondered why the snake wasn’t hibernating but figured if it had found its way inside the greenhouse it probably didn’t realize how cold it was outside. Harry let out a soft hiss as he ducked to check under the nearest table.

“ _Hello?”_ When there was no answer he moved towards the back of the greenhouse, occasionally stopping to hiss under a table or workbench. He heard a sound and moved towards it, pulling his wand from his pocket just in case. He started when he saw Snape standing over a work table.

“Snape.”

The man turned at his voice, and the black brows rose when he took in Harry’s wand. “Planning on hexing me, Potter?”

Harry chuckled and lowered his wand. “Not yet. Hagrid asked me to see if I could find a snake.”

Snape’s brow went up again before he turned back to the pot in front of him. “Assuming you are not referring to a Slytherin, I believe it is the wrong time of year for that.”

Harry moved over to stand beside Snape and see what he was doing. “Pomona thought she saw one in here. Have you?”

Snape pressed dirt around the small sapling in the pot. “I have not. Though I will keep an eye out.” Snape jerked and swatted at the vine that was trying to wrap itself around his leg. “Pomona is about to find herself shy a Flitterbloom.” Harry watched as the plant snatched its vine back like a slapped hand.

“At least it’s not a Devil’s Snare. Those things can be quite vicious.”

Snape glanced over at him, a small smirk pulling at his lips. “Yes, you’ve had a bit of experience with those haven’t you?”

Harry felt his cheeks burn. “A bit. So, um, what are you doing?” He glanced down at the plant so as not to have to meet Snape’s eyes.

“Experimenting,” Snape said matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Hybridization?”

Snape’s head snapped up. “What?” Harry felt his cheeks heat up.

“Um, hybridization. The process of-”

“I know what hybridization is, Potter,” Snape said with a smirk. “I’m just surprised you do.”

“Oh, well, Neville, you know,” Harry explained lamely.

Snape shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Of course. No. Not hybridization. I’ve no desire to invent a new plant. I will leave that to the capable hands of Pomona and her protégé.” Harry bit back a smile, wondering if Snape realized he had just called Neville Longbottom capable. “No. I have decided to force my own batch of Frozen Phlox.”

“Oh?” Harry asked with interest and glanced back down at the plant.

“Yes. I took a sample of our harvest from last month and have been growing it in here. It needed repotting today. If it grows into a viable phlox bush, I intend to produce several more plants. Once I have several worthy subjects, I wish to try forcing them into a freeze in different ways.”

Harry blinked up at Snape. “That’s incredible. Then you won’t have to wait for the first freeze and try to beat the pixies.”

Snape gave a nod. “That is my intention. It will also allow me to have almost unlimited ingredients and possibly allow me to experiment with fresher ingredients.”

Harry grinned broadly at the man. “You’re absolutely amazing, Severus.” The man blinked at him, and Harry was sure he saw the man’s cheeks turning pink before he turned back to his plant.

“I haven’t done anything yet, Potter. It was merely an idea.”

“But obviously an idea nobody else has had yet.”

“Yes, well,” Snape swatted at his leg again. And his face contorted in pain. “Bloody fuck!”

Harry jerked back and ran his eyes over Snape. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I think,” Snape said through gritted teeth, “I found your bloody snake.”

“What? Don’t move.” Harry dropped to his knees and carefully pulled Snape’s robe up. He gasped at the sight of the tan snake with a familiar zigzag pattern. He carefully wrapped his hand around the head that was still attached to Snape’s inner thigh just above his knee. He carefully extracted the fangs with a muttered hiss from Snape.

“ _Don’t worry, little one. I’ve no wish to hurt you.”_ The beady black eyes looked at him curiously but let Harry unwind the body from Snape’s leg. Harry looked up at Snape. _“Are you alright, Snape?”_

Black eyes glared down at him. “English, Potter.”

He blushed. “Sorry. I asked if you were alright.”

The man above him winced. “I don’t know. I should get to the infirmary.” Harry nodded and stood. He moved the snake in front of him.

“ _Did you use venom?”_ The tan head nodded, and Harry looked over at Snape. “She injected venom. We’ll need to get you the antidote.”

Snape nodded. “We should hurry. The Healer at Mungo’s said I should be extra careful with snake bites after Nagini’s attack. It could-” Snape pushed away from the table but immediately fell back against it.

“Snape!” Harry cried and reached out to steady the man.

Snape wrapped his hand around Harry’s arm. “Is it supposed to tingle?”

“Fuck.” Harry placed the snake on the table and pointed at it. “ _Don’t go anywhere. We need to talk.”_

The tan head nodded. “ _I am sorry for attacking your mate, Speaker.”_

Harry shook his head. “ _We will talk later.”_ Harry pulled out his wand and transfigured the nearby stool into a chair. He leaned Snape against the table again. “Hold still. We need to extract the poison now. I don't think we can wait to get to the infirmary. Getting your blood pumping is the last thing we need to do.” Harry ran his wand over the front of Snape’s robe and watched the buttons pop off.

“What are you doing, Potter?” Snape tried to growl but was too weak to sound too upset.

“I learned some first aid from Gringotts.” He pushed the robe from Snape’s shoulders and the man allowed him to take the robe off and toss it over the back of the chair. A slender hand grabbed his wrist when he went for Snape’s trouser button. Harry looked up at the man in exasperation. “She bit you on your thigh. I need to get to the bite.” Snape released Harry’s hand and he went to work. He bit back a smirk to see that Snape’s trousers did not have a zip on it but a row of buttons. He quickly worked the buttons open and pushed the trousers down to reveal dark green boxers. “Sit down.” He helped Snape into the chair.

“How exactly do you intend to extract the venom, Potter?”

Harry dropped to his knees. “I’m going to suck it out.”

Snape shot up from where he had leaned back against the chair. “The hell you say.”

Harry pushed the man back. “Shut up, Snape.”

He pushed Snape’s trousers further down and pushed the man’s legs apart to get a look at the bite. He could already see a dark line slowly moving up the man’s leg from the origin of the bite and disappearing under the green shorts. The new venom reacting to the neutralized remains of Nagini’s venom. “Fuck,” he hissed to himself. He quickly sent a Patronus to Poppy with a message to bring a general antivenin and blood replenisher. “I’m going to have to cut you to get more of the blood out.” Snape winced and grabbed at his leg before giving a nod.

“Just do it.” Harry pulled his wand and said a minor cutting spell. The twin holes soon grew to form a slit, and Harry could see the infected blood ooze from the new wound. Harry grabbed a leaf and transfigured it into a small, crude jar. He leaned forward and began to suck at the wound. Bitter fluid filled his mouth, and Snape groaned above Harry. Harry pulled back and spit the blackened blood into the small jar. He returned his mouth to Snape’s inner thigh and his hand slid over the strong muscles. It did not escape Harry’s notice that once again they were in a very compromising position and he was unable to enjoy it. Harry spit more blood into the jar and eyed Snape’s leg. He pushed the green shorts up to eye the dark line, subconsciously noting they were silk. He lowered his mouth and sucked, more bitter fluid filling his mouth. He repeated the procedure several times, checking his progress every so often. He could definitely see the dark line receding back towards the bite. “It’s working,” he told Snape.

“I can tell,” Snape said tensely. “The tingling has stopped.”

“Good,” Harry replied before once again pressing his mouth to Snape’s thigh. His knees were starting to hurt from kneeling on the ground and he shifted. His head rubbed against Snape’s opposite thigh. And Snape let out a hiss. Harry spit more blood into the jar and glanced up at Snape. “You alright there, Snape?”

The man nodded, and Harry lowered his mouth once more. His head brushed against Snape’s leg again, and he slid his other hand over the hard thigh and pushed the man’s legs further apart. He heard Snape’s laboured breathing over him and hoped the man was doing okay. He spit more blood into the jar and lowered his head once more. This time, the top of Harry’s head brushed against something hard that was _distinctly_ not a thigh. Oh god. Snape was aroused. This realisation only caused Harry’s blood to head south. He bit back a moan, trying to concentrate on getting the poison from Snape’s wound. He spit more blood out, noticing it was more red than black. He checked at the wound and saw there was only a very little bit of blackness close to the original bite. He couldn’t help his eyes darting to the considerable bulge in the man shorts. Fuck, Snape was huge. Harry quickly plastered his mouth to Snape’s leg to keep himself from begging the man to fuck him with his huge cock. Not good. Not good at all. Oh, god. How was he supposed to take things slow with the man knowing _that_ thing was waiting for him. Harry’s own cock was throbbing now.

“Gentlemen!” Came the horrified gasp. And now he was as limp as a five day old flower. He pulled back to spit more blood into the jar while Snape reached behind him for his robe to cover himself. Harry wiped his mouth on his sleeve and turned to see Minerva standing there, arms crossed, lips thin, and toe tapping on the dirt floor. Harry scrambled to his feet, trying to preserve Snape’s dignity.

“I swear it’s all completely innocent.” 

 

_( **A/N:** Sucking venom out Does not work! It is highly recommended to NOT try that particular myth.) _

 

## Part 5: Wet Dreams

Severus opened his door at the knock wondering who could be disturbing his peace. And peace it was, as the students had left for the Yule holiday that morning, save for five or six, none of which were in his House. He felt heat pool in his belly at the sight of Potter standing there in tight jeans, a long-sleeved hunter green shirt, and typically mussed hair.

“Potter.” The green eyes twinkled behind their frames.

“Snape.” Potter pulled his hand from behind his back to reveal a bottle of Ogden’s finest. “I wondered if you might wish to celebrate the lack of students in the castle.”

Severus let his lips curl into a smile. “The most sensible thing I think I have heard you say.” He stepped back and motioned for the younger man to enter his rooms. Potter’s smile brightened, and he stepped into Severus’s quarters. Severus went to take the bottle of firewhiskey but Potter jerked it back to hold protectively against his chest, and a mischievous look crossed the Gryffindor’s face.

“Only if you agree to call me ‘Harry’.” Severus grabbed for the bottle once more, his fingers sliding against Potter’s hard chest as Severus gripped the neck of the bottle.

“Not quite an even trade, Potter. After all, the Ogden’s will eventually run out.” His fingers brushed against Potter’s as they both held the bottle. Potter’s lips quirked up.

“Alright. A deal then.” Severus raised a brow in inquiry. “As long as I agree to indulge you in your hedonism, you call me ‘Harry’.”

Severus let his eyes slide down the lithe figure and back up to see Potter’s cheeks burn a soft pink. “I assure you, _Harry_ , I am not quite so hedonistic. I simply enjoy the occasional foray into guilty pleasures.” He jerked the bottle from the man’s grip and closed the door. “You know where the couch is. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Potter made his way over to the couch while Severus took the whiskey to his drink bar. He took down two tumblers and moved to join Potter on the couch. He sat down and placed the two glasses on the coffee table in front of them before he tore the wrapping off the neck of the bottle and unscrewed the cap. He filled both glasses halfway, placed the bottle on the table, and picked up both glasses. He handed one to Potter and settled back with the other. Potter smiled brightly at him and lifted his glass in a cheers motion. Severus copied the movement, and they each took a sip.

“So what brings you down here, Potter?”

Potter chuckled. “I told you. I thought you’d like to celebrate.”

Severus raised a brow. “And you thought I’d wish to do so with you?”

Potter took a sip, a sly look at Severus on his face. “I thought you might not be opposed to the idea.”

Severus felt his stomach flutter. “And what could possibly have given you that idea?”

Potter gave a small shrug, but there was a look in his eyes that made Severus wary. “Just a feeling. How is your leg?”

Severus blinked at the change of subject, and he reached down to rub at the spot just above his knee. The memory of Potter on his knees, mouth pressed against Severus’s thigh had his blood rushing south. He fought the urge to shift in his seat and took a sip of his whiskey. “It is better. I meant to thank you for your quick actions last weekend.”

Potter’s green eyes went serious for a moment. “I’m just glad I was there.”

Severus reached over to rest a hand on Harry’s knee. “As am I, Harry.” He let his hand rest there, looking into the green eyes. The look that flashed momentarily in the green eyes forced Severus into a decision he had been wavering on for some time. Without moving his hand from Potter’s knee he placed his glass on the table, reached over to slide the matching glass from Potter’s hand, and placed it beside his own. He leaned forward and slipped his hand around the nape of Potter’s neck and gently pulled him closer. Potter didn’t hesitate, and Severus soon covered the soft lips with his own.

As his mouth moved over the plump lips, Harry made a soft sound that sent a jolt of lust through Severus. He flicked his tongue at Harry’s lip, and the warm mouth opened for him. Severus’s hand slid through the soft hair as he slipped his tongue between the luscious lips and tasted Harry. He let his own soft moan slip out and felt Harry’s hand slide up to cup his cheek. Severus’s tongue slid along Harry’s tasting the firewhiskey and cherry pie from dessert. Harry’s own tongue slipped into his mouth to lap at Severus’s lips. Their tongues danced and twisted around each other until Severus felt they were too close to pushing this new… thing too fast. He pulled back, ending the kiss with a soft nip to Harry’s lip. He looked down into the glazed eyes and smiled at the bemused look on Harry’s face. He pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the swollen lips. He ran his thumb along Harry’s neck.

“This okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I,” he swallowed and licked his lips. “I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable moving beyond a friendship yet.”

Severus slowly slipped his hand from Harry’s neck and settled back down on the couch as Harry’s hand slid from Severus’s cheek. He made sure to sit close to Harry so the other man wouldn’t think he was trying to pull away. To his delight, Harry slipped a hand into Severus’s and curled their fingers together. Severus looked up at the shining green eyes and pink cheeks.

“I will admit I have been thinking of it for some time. But,” he hesitated a second before deciding to be a Gryffindor for once. “Harry, I’m not looking for a quick fuck or something to pass the time. I admire you, respect you, and would like to see if what is between us could be something real. Something lasting.” He studied the precious face, and Harry seemed to contemplate his words for a minute before giving a nod.

“I think this could be something more, Severus. And I’d like to see where it can go as well.”

Severus gave a nod. “Good. Then perhaps we can take some time over this holiday to spend time together in the capacity of potential lovers.”

A smile slipped across Harry’s lips. “Potential Lovers. As in… boyfriends?”

Severus glared as the green-eyed devil. “Potter.”

“I thought I told you to call me ‘Harry’?” he said with a smirk.

“You are currently not providing any indulgence for my hedonism, Potter. And I refuse to be someone’s _boyfriend._ ”

Harry chuckled. “Fine. How about ‘beau’? ‘Swain’? ‘Paramour’? ‘Daddy’?”

Severus squeezed Harry’s hand tightly and leaned over the laughing Gryffindor, “If you so much as even _think_ of calling me ‘daddy’ I will take you over my knee and spank you like you deserved all during your school days.”

Harry chuckled again. “Alright, Severus. ‘Daddy’ is out then.” Severus relaxed back against the couch. “So, what now? Do we have like… dates? Oh! Can I cook you dinner?”

Severus looked at him skeptically. “You? Cook? I’ve seen the way you brew a potion. No thanks.”

Harry gave a pout, and Severus fought against the urge to kiss it away. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent cook. I had to cook for the Dursleys all the time.”

Severus eyed the man skeptically. “A compromise?”

Harry smiled and snuggled up against Severus. “Well, you’re the Slytherin. So go ahead.”

“Come to my rooms and we’ll make dinner together. That way I can supervise.” Harry laughed.

“Fine. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I still have a bit of shopping to do, and I’m expected at the Burrow on Boxing Day. Is Tuesday good for you?”

Severus gave a nod. “I believe I am free.”

Harry beamed at him and pressed a kiss to Severus’s cheek. “Great. I’ll have Kreacher drop the supplies off here Tuesday afternoon. What time should I come down?”

“I think four should sufficiently allow us to have the meal prepared in time to eat by six.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said with a smile, and Severus couldn’t agree more.

 

Severus didn’t hear the elf pop into his quarters as he was too busy trying to decide what to wear. He wanted to be comfortable and be able to enjoy his date with Harry. But he also wanted to look nice for the other wizard. He finally decided on black trousers and a deep purple short-sleeve button down. He spotted the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter and peaked at what Harry had possibly planned for dinner. He saw a small bag of flour, some eggs, and a package of… cubed steaks. A bag of potatoes and some greens were in the second bag and Severus was no closer to figuring out what Harry had planned than he had been a minute earlier. It apparently didn’t matter, Severus decided at the knock on his door.

He quickly made his way over to the door and pulled it open, keeping his face neutral just in case it wasn’t Harry. He let the smile slide across his lips when he saw Harry standing there in khakis and a dark blue tee. Harry held out a brown bag, and Severus took it carefully. It was heavier than he expected and he peeked inside.

“Potter, why have you brought… beer?”

Harry smirked as he stepped into Severus’s chamber and pressed a chaste kiss to Severus’s cheek. “Because beer goes with chicken fried steak.”

Severus let the door close, and he turned to follow Harry into the kitchen. “And what, pray tell, is chicken fried steak?”

Harry grinned cheekily at him. “Dinner. Put that in the cold box, Severus. It’s not butterbeer and should be drunk cold.”

Severus eyed Harry warily but did as he said while Harry began pulling things out of the bag and rummaging around in Severus’s kitchen. Severus watched the younger man work and move around flawlessly. Perhaps the brat did know how to cook. Conversation flowed as Harry gathered ingredients and set to work. By the time the potatoes were nearly done and Harry was placing the last of the meat on a plate, Severus had to admit it smelled delicious.

“Where did you get this recipe?” he asked Harry, reaching to break off a piece of the breading on the steak. Harry slapped his hand away.

“Leave that alone. I spent a few months in Texas: this is huge over there. Grab me another beer.”

“Get it yourself,” Severus said petulantly, miffed that Harry wouldn’t let him try the mouth-watering dish.

Harry made a face. “Don’t be a baby, Severus.” Severus quirked his brow at Harry, and the younger man rolled his eyes as he moved over to the cold box. Severus quickly snatched off a piece of the steak and popped it in his mouth. It _was_ delicious. Severus reached for another bite just as Harry turned back around. “Oi!” Severus kept Harry at bay with his arm outstretched as he broke off another piece. “Stop that!”

“No,” Severus protested. “It’s good.” He saw Harry pull his wand out, and Severus reacted quickly, grabbing a handful of flour and flung it at Harry.

“Git!” A pile of flour landed in Severus’s face, and he sputtered, turning on Harry.

Within second they were both covered in flour, egg, and, in Harry’s case, potato. But they were laughing and teasing each other. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him closer. His dark eyes roamed over the flour-covered face.

“Look at you,” Severus said softly. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted with the cooking. You’ve made a mess of my kitchen.” Harry smiled brilliantly at him and pressed his lips up to meet Severus’s. Severus accepted the slow, languid kiss as Harry’s mouth moved beneath his. Their tongues repeated the dance from the other day, and Severus let his hand slide down to cup the curve of Harry’s tight bum. Harry’s own fingers slid into Severus’s hair as he pressed himself against Severus with a soft moan. Severus pulled back with a gasp. “We should stop.”

Harry nodded and reluctantly pulled away. “Yeah. That’s not moving slow, is it?”

Severus chuckled. “Definitely not.” He let his eyes take in Harry’s eggy hair. “And I think we need showers. You can use the guest bath. I have my own in my bedroom.”

He let go of Harry and allowed him to step back. Harry nodded and ran his hand through his hair, a look of disgust on his face. “Yeah. Um, I think I should call an elf for some clean clothes.”

Severus shook his head. “Nonsense. I’ve got some clothes you can borrow. Besides,” Severus said eyeing Harry again, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in my clothes.” He relished in the pick flush of Harry’s cheeks. “Put a stasis charm on the food, we can finish it up and eat after our showers.” Severus motioned towards the bathroom door with his head. “Go take your shower. I’ll have some clothes waiting for you when you get out.”

“Alright, Severus. I’ll see you in a bit.” Severus nodded and left Harry to charm the food. He quickly stripped and jumped in the shower, a smile on his face. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to relax around Harry. He enjoyed this playful side of their relationship and not having to worry about looking like an idiot. He was definitely glad he had decided to give he and Harry a chance.

Severus stepped from the shower and pulled on a clean pair of black trousers and settled for a dark grey tee. He pulled a blue tee and some black sweats out for Harry, thinking how lovely the slender man would look with the sweats slung low on his hips. He moved out into the living area and tossed the clothes on his chair. He was tempted to steal another bite of food and had just about given in when his Floo sprung to life and Minerva stepped out. He looked at her startled.

“Minerva. What brings you down here?”

“I came to ask if there was anyway you could check on the Ravenclaws over the next week. Filius has been called away on family business.”

Severus blinked at her in surprise. “Yes, of course. He’s seen to my Snakes several times. I have no problem returning the favor.”

She gave a slight nod. “Thank you, Severus. I-”

“Severus, I wasn’t sure-” Harry paused as he stepped from the bathroom; water dripping down his body, wet hair plastered to his head, and a stark white towel against his tanned body the only thing preserving his dignity. He gaped at the headmistress whose eyes were going from a wet Harry to Severus’s no doubt still-wet hair. “It’s not what you think,” Harry blurted out. “It’s completely innocent.” 

 

## Part 6: Coming Attractions

Harry bit his lip to cut off the whistle that had been on the verge of escape. It wouldn’t do for the students to see their professor whistling like a lovesick Hufflepuff. Especially not when he was still trying to get their minds back into learning mode. The last few weeks with Severus had been amazing. They had met nearly every night for drinks, had shared private lunches, and had even Apparated to London for an actual date. It had been nice to be out in public with Severus and not have to worry about what the Prophet might say if Harry accidentally let a look of longing slip across his face. The same look of longing he had seen echoing in Severus’s dark eyes. Harry wondered exactly how slow the man wanted to take things. Harry, for one, was absolutely ready to be ravished by the man.

By the third night after their first dinner date, when they had both had to shower and been caught by the Headmistress, Harry and Severus’s kisses had turned into heavy snogging sessions. Just the night before, Severus had slipped his hand down Harry’s trousers, not for the first time, and Harry had experienced an absolutely amazing orgasm. Yes, he very much wanted Severus to have his way with him. Plus, Minerva seemed to think they already were intimate anyway. The evening she had caught Harry coming out of the shower she had given a disbelieving snort at Harry’s proclamation of innocence. She had simply told them to be discreet and remain good role models for the children. At Severus’s snort she had given the man a Molly Weasley-worthy glare. Harry smiled at the memory, then quickly schooled his face at the sound of students in the corridor.

Harry made his way down the dungeon corridor and stopped outside the familiar office door. He gave a firm knock and entered when instructed to do so. He took in the picture of Severus bent over his desk, quill in hand as he desecrated an essay with red ink. Harry closed the door behind him and moved towards his… lover. Severus looked up at the movement, his eyes flicking to the door when he saw it was Harry, and stood from his desk, a slow smile forming on his lips.

“Hello, Professor Potter.” Severus moved to stand in front of his desk and leaned back against it, crossing his arms at his chest. “To what do I owe this… _hopefully_ pleasant visit?”

Harry moved to stand in front of the man and wrapped his hands around the thin wrists, forcing the arms to uncross. He pulled the hands to wrap around his waist and pressed against the taller wizard. “How pleasant this is all depends on you.” Harry lifted his face to Severus; the Potions Master took the offer for what it was and lowered his mouth to cover Harry’s. Harry melted into the kiss, relishing the familiar taste of Severus as their tongues slid over each other. Severus’s arms tightened around Harry, and Harry wrapped his own arms around Severus’s neck. He moaned into the kiss and felt himself getting hard. Severus must have had a similar reaction because the man ended the kiss and pulled back.

“Not here, love.” Severus placed a chaste kiss on Harry’s temple. “Did you come to distract me, or did you actually have a reason for disturbing my Saturday morning?”

Harry blinked, trying to remember why he had sought Severus out. He blushed as the knowing look in the dark eyes. “I actually did have a reason for coming down here,” Harry finally confirmed, and a dark brow went up in question. “I’m taking you out to celebrate your birthday tonight.”

Severus looked down at Harry in confusion. “It’s not my birthday.”

Harry let his hands slide down to grip Severus’s biceps. “I know. But your birthday is Monday, and you’ll be too tired from dealing with the students to celebrate properly.”

“Harry,” Severus said hesitantly, but Harry cut him off.

“No, Severus. I’ve already spoken to Aurora. She’ll be here if your snakes need someone. I bet you’ve never had a proper birthday celebration, at least not in the last twenty years or so, and I want to do this for you.”

Severus studied Harry for a long, silent moment. “And how are you planning on celebrating?”

Harry beamed, knowing Severus was already hooked. “Dinner then a movie. And by the time we get back here Kreacher will have dessert and coffee waiting in your quarters.”

“And what movie does Harry Potter possibly think that Severus Snape would be interested in?”

Harry knew the man was teasing but his face still heated and his eyes drifted down to study the line of Severus’s collar. “They made a movie out of that book you were reading last year. The one about the geisha girl.” Harry took the sharp intake of breath as a good sign, and gave his own gasp when he felt Severus’s large nose press into his neck quickly followed by the thin lips. He tilted his head to the side and tightened his grip on the thin arms to keep his knees from buckling. “It’s a good choice?”

“Mmm,” Severus hummed against Harry’s neck and Harry whimpered as Severus slid his tongue over Harry’s neck. “And do I get a present?”

“Oh yes,” Harry said breathlessly, and he wasn’t sure if he was answering the question or agreeing to whatever Severus was doing to his body. It was the correct response either way. Or it was until Severus pulled back leaving Harry gazing confusedly at the man’s smug smile. He blinked and felt his face heat up.

“What time should I be ready?”

“Five-thirty,” Harry answered. “The movie starts at seven.”

“I will be ready.”

 

He was. And so was Harry, after seeing Severus in the fitted black trousers, deep blue long-sleeved button down, and his hair pulled back to show off his long neck and perfectly rounded ears. Harry let his eyes linger over the broad chest, remembering his fingers sliding under the man’s shirt the night before to tease at the hard nipples. Remembered how Severus had guided Harry’s hand down to the buttons of his trousers, how Harry had fumbled with setting them free as Severus had easily freed Harry’s own cock. The trousers Severus wore tonight only had one button and a zipper, and Harry let his mind drift to how easily it would be to get the man’s trousers undone later.

“Keep looking at me like that, Harry,” Severus’s husky voice pulled him from his contemplation, “and we won’t make it to the movie or dinner.”

Harry gave a firm nod. “Right.” He stepped back with a final glance at Severus’s obvious pleasure at Harry’s perusal. “Right. Dinner. Um, we can Floo to Grimmauld Place from your quarters.”

Severus closed the door behind Harry as he stepped into the man’s quarters. “I didn’t realize I still had access.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “You didn’t. I added you when I went to London on Christmas Eve. Just in case.”

“Mmm,” Severus said as he grabbed his cloak. “Then I suppose I am ready.”

They moved over to the Floo and Harry went through first. He caught himself on the chair placed nearby for that purpose and did a quick cleaning spell to remove the ash from his clothes. Severus stepped from the Floo and Harry smiled up at him.

“I just need to grab my cloak on the way out, and then I’ll Apparate us to the restaurant; it’s not far from the theatre so we won’t have to Apparate again until we head back here.” Severus gave a nod, and they moved towards the front of the house.

Harry Apparated them to an alley not far from the restaurant, and they walked. Harry had decided on a small Indian diner Hermione had introduced them too a few years ago and was glad when Snape mentioned that he was fond of it but hadn’t had Indian in several years. They ate leisurely, as Harry had already purchased the tickets for the movie, and talked. They kept the conversation away from magic or used vague terms when the subject came up. Mostly they spoke of the muggle things they enjoyed, and it was like getting to know an entirely different side of Severus. Severus slipped his hand in Harry’s as they walked the short distance to the theatre. Regretfully, Harry had to pull his hand away when they reached the theatre to fish out the tickets. He teased Severus into a small popcorn and water as Severus refused to drink a soda; Harry shrugged and had the clerk pour him a root beer. Once they were settled in the theatre, Harry slipped his hand back into Severus’s and leaned his head against the man’s shoulder.

Harry had to admit the movie wasn’t too bad and was a bit informative as far as the historical aspect went. They decided to catch a cab to Grimmauld Place rather than Apparate so as to prolong the evening, and Severus gave a historical accounting of geishas which helped Harry understand some of the things from the movie better. Harry paid the driver and they waited for him to drive off before moving towards number twelve. Once again Harry stepped through the Floo first, and he took a quick look around Severus’s quarters as he stepped through. The room was dark save for several floating candles that had been spelled around the living area. On the coffee table in front of him sat two glasses of a deep red wine and a small chocolate ganache cake with a single candle flickering in the middle and two forks resting beside it. Harry nodded in satisfaction, silently praising Kreacher for the wonderful job. He turned just as the Floo flared to life once more, and Severus stepped out. Severus paused taking in the scene before him, and Harry smiled shyly up at the man.

“Happy birthday, Severus.” Harry glanced over at the table then back up at Severus. “Make a wish.” Harry let out a gasp of air as he was pulled roughly against Severus. He looked up into the glittering black eyes and felt his breath catch.

“Anything I want, Harry?” Severus asked huskily, and Harry nodded. A wicked smile curved Severus’s lips upwards. “Then I had best make it a good one.”

Severus’s hand slid along Harry’s waist and around his wrist. He stepped back, tossed the cloak in his arm to the nearest chair, and pulled Harry around to the couch. They settled down, and Severus gave Harry an enigmatic look before puckering his lips and blowing the candle out with a puff of air. Harry felt a shiver go down his spine, and he grabbed at the nearest glass of wine. He took a sip and placed the glass back on the table as Severus picked up a fork and dipped it into the cake. Harry grabbed the other fork, but it was plucked from his fingers. He looked up in shock as Severus tossed the fork somewhere over his shoulder.

“You won’t be needing that.” Severus leaned closer, bringing the forkful of cake up to Harry’s lips.

“Oh. But the birthday boy is supposed to have the first bite,” Harry protested.

“Oh I will,” Severus said huskily, and Harry felt heat fill his entire body. His lips fell open, and the cake was pushed between them. He dutifully wrapped his lips around the fork and took the cake as Severus slipped the fork from his mouth. Severus took his own bite, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. Harry swallowed his bite and licked at his lips. “Is it okay?” He asked nervously.

Severus seemed to contemplate the question. “It’s missing something.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, as he’d thought the cake had been wonderful. Severus nodded and placed the fork on the edge of the plate. He slid a finger through the icing and brought it up to Harry’s lips. Harry obediently open and sucked on the chocolate flavored digit that was pressed inside. He heard a soft moan, and a moment later the finger was replaced by Severus’s tongue. The kiss was the furious need of their snogging sessions, and Harry slid his fingers through Severus’s hair, letting the tie slip loose as the dark strands fell around his fingers. He moaned and pressed his hips up against the burgeoning erection pressing into him. He vaguely wondered when he had ended up on his back but let the thought fade as Severus’s hand trailed down Harry’s side.

Severus pulled back, panting. “I want you, Harry. I want you in my bed. I want to be inside you.”

“Yes,” Harry gasped. “Oh yes. Please.”

Harry blinked as he was suddenly devoid of any pressure atop him. He pushed himself up to see Severus bent over untying his boots. Taking the hint, Harry quickly discarded his own shoes and socks. He looked up at the hand offered him and slipped his own in it, allowing Severus to pull him to his feet. He landed against Severus’s hard body.

“I had wanted to take it slow, Harry. But you are too much a temptation, and I find I can no longer resist your allure.” Harry’s mouth was once again captured by the insistent lips. He felt himself being guided and let Severus lead him. When Severus pulled back, Harry found himself in a darkened bedroom that was quickly brought to life by a roaring fire. Harry paid no attention to the surrounding, figuring this wouldn’t be the only time he was in Severus’s rooms. Instead he focused on the row of buttons down Severus’s chest. Severus too seemed to be singly determined, and soon both men were clad in nothing but their pants. Severus once again wore the dark green boxers, and Harry let his hand slide over the silky fabric.

“You were wearing these when the snake bit you,” He said and gave Severus a sly grin. “Remember how I knelt between your legs and pressed my mouth to your thigh? Perhaps this time I can suck out something not so bitter tasting.”

Severus let out a growl and crashed his lips to Harry’s, thrusting his tongue inside Harry’s mouth with a bruising force. Harry grasped the strong arms as he was pushed backwards and down onto the mattress. Severus pulled his mouth away. “Insolent brat. That was not my birthday wish and well you know it. But as today is not my actual birthday,” Severus added with a gleam in his eyes, “perhaps that means I get a second wish.” Severus lowered his mouth to whisper in Harry’s ear. “And now I know just what I shall wish for.” Harry groaned and pressed his hips up.

“Please, Severus.”

Severus’s hand slid over Harry’s thigh and up the fabric tight against Harry’s skin. A long finger slipped beneath the waistband of Harry’s briefs, and he whimpered with need. “So anxious, my love. Don’t you wish to play for a bit?”

Harry let out a frustrated growl, and Severus chuckled. “No.” He stared up into the dark eyes, willing Severus to see the need there. “I think we’ve had enough foreplay, Severus.” Harry slid his leg up Severus’s hairy thigh. “I want you to strip me bare, Severus.” The dark eyes widened as Harry’s foot slid up the long leg. “I want you to press your fingers inside me and stretch me.” Harry’s heel dug into the firm arse. “I want your cock so deep inside me I’ll taste your come when you fill me.” Harry’s hand slid down to grip the other cheek. “Make me scream, Severus.”

Anything Harry might have said was cut off by Severus’s frantic movements as he ripped the briefs from Harry’s body, his own boxers following them to the floor. Harry wasn’t sure when Severus Summoned the lube, he only knew his cock was in the warm mouth and a slick finger was probing at his anus. Harry bent his knees and spread his legs for Severus, his hand finding the soft hair near his navel and sliding into the silky strands. He was begging for more, and Severus was giving it, stretching Harry with his fingers and teasing him with his mouth. Harry cried out in anguish when the delightful mouth and exquisite fingers left him. He was soon placated when the mouth covered his and he sucked Severus’s tongue into his mouth. A pillow was pressed under his hips, and Harry moaned into the wet heat when he felt the blunt end of Severus’s prick pressing against him. He jerked his head back to catch his breath and looked up into the dark eyes. He let out a moan of ecstasy when Severus pushed against him.

“Oh, yes. Yes,” he cried as he felt himself being spread open by the thick cock. “Oh god, Sev’rus. Yes.”

Harry could tell the man was trying not to hurt him, was easing himself in. Severus’s breathing was ragged as his dark eyes watched Harry for any signs of discomfort, but the man felt wonderful. Harry let out a cry as the head of Severus’s cock breached him, and the man was finally sliding in. “Oh, Harry,” Severus moaned as he slid fully into Harry. He dropped his head to press soft kisses to Harry’s temple and ear. “So tight, baby. So beautiful and tight for me.”

“Sev, please,” Harry moaned and hissed in pleasure when the man began to move, slowly sliding out and pushing back in. Severus kept a steady pace until Harry was begging for more and harder. He wrapped his legs around Severus’s waist and met him thrust for thrust as Severus pounded into his body. “Sev’rus,” he begged as he reached between their bodies.

“Yes, baby,” Severus gasped. “Make yourself come for me. Let me feel your tight body clenching around me. Let me fill you with my come.” Harry had barely touched himself before Severus’s words pushed him over the edge and he came, screaming Severus’s name and shooting come between them. “Oh fuck, baby!” Severus cried as he pushed into Harry’s throbbing body and moaned Harry’s name as Harry felt the pulses of come deep inside him.

 

Harry didn’t remember much after that. He knew at some point Severus had cast a cleaning spell and had re-situated them in the bed before curling around Harry’s body. Harry had fallen asleep quickly after that. He woke next to the warm body and snuggled back against the thin frame. He gave a small moan of approval at the hard member pressing against his bum.

“Brat,” Severus mumbled, but soon had Harry pressed stomach down in the bed as he pounded into him. Another nap followed the vigorous round of lovemaking, and Harry was ready for a shower when they woke up a second time. Apparently, so was Severus, and Harry was pleased to realise the older wizard was just as randy as he was with an equally short recovery period. Harry had never had shower sex before and thought it was a rather fine discovery. Once they were cleaned and dressed, Harry once again borrowing a pair of sweats and a tee, they had a leisurely breakfast. Harry noticed the preservation charm that had been placed on the cake and smiled. After breakfast Harry snatched up the two wine glasses and emptied them in the sink before sidling up to Severus.

“You know, Severus, I actually did have a present for you last night.”

Severus smirked at him and slid a long finger down Harry’s cheek causing him to shiver. “I thought your screams were a nice enough present, but far be it from me to deny a man, especially you, his pleasures.” Harry felt himself blush as Severus settled on the couch. Harry sat beside him and reached over to pull the candle from the cake. As it slid from the chocolatey confection a silver chain came free from the dessert as well. Harry was glad the protection charm had held and he wouldn’t have to use a cleaning charm on it. He detached it from the candle and laid the silver snake pendant in Severus’s palm. Severus looked at the pendant then up at Harry.

“It’s beautiful, love.” Harry felt himself blush, and he moved to straddle Severus’s lap. He reached for the pendant.

“May I?” Severus nodded, and Harry undid the clasp before slipping it around Severus’s neck. “It’s got protective charms on it to protect you from mild burns and accidents in class.” Harry locked the clasp and let his finger run down the silver chain that lay against Severus’s neck. “I hope you like it.”

Dark eyes glittered up at Harry. “I love it, baby. Just as I love you, Harry.”

Harry’s breath caught in his chest as the tears filled his eyes. “Oh, Severus.” He flung his arms around the man’s neck. “I love you too, Sev’rus.” He moaned as soft lips pressed against his neck and thin fingers slid under his shirt. He allowed Severus to pull the shirt over his head and pressed his own mouth to the slender neck. He felt cool air rush across his bum as Severus pushed the sweats off Harry’s hips. Harry had forgone pants after the shower in the hope that they would find themselves in the increasingly familiar position once more, and he pressed his now exposed and weeping cock against Severus’s stomach. He reached between them to slide his hand down Severus’s loungers. Severus moaned as Harry’s fingers curled around the long cock.

“Gentlemen.” Harry jerked his hand back at the same time that Severus yanked the sweats back up to cover Harry’s bare backside. Harry looked over his shoulder to see the Headmistress standing near the fireplace, arms crossed, an amused look on her face. His own face burned in embarrassment as she spoke. “Don’t even dare try to tell me _this_ is completely innocent.”  

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little romp. Thanks for letting me take a week off. I promise I have been working diligently on more Snarry. I'm going to take next week off as well to give my beta time to work her way through the first few chapters of my next fic. (Which -spoiler alert- contains wonderful art by the absolutely delightful Masao of Dastardly Lemondrops.)


End file.
